NicksCF

The Curse of Brockton

The travellers left the Nameless village on the road to Ostalin. They journeyed through quiet, snowy woods. They passed through an empty village whose inhabitants had been slaughtered by raiders.

The Peaceful Traveller

Some way down the road from the desecrated village, they met a traveller coming in the opposite direction. He stopped to talk. His name was Parius, a wayfarer of Ellesland, a healer and a man of peace. Jonulf noticed he had something of the Cunning Folk’s look about him. Parius spoke of a knight who guarded a bridge ahead, challenging all who crossed it to a duel. But the road to Ostalin lay on the other fork, Parius explained, so the knight could be bypassed. Parius then went on his way.

The Bridge

Sure enough, at a fork in the path lay a bridge. On the bridge stood a knight with a flaming red moustache. A green and white striped tent was nearby, with a bored-looking page standing near.

Jonulf was anxious to avoid trouble, and suggested hurrying away towards Ostalin Abbey. But Sir Grimble was in a bolder mood.

“I am Sir Edgard,” stated the knight. “I challenge any who would cross.”

Brockton’s Master

After some questioning, the knight admitted the reason for his vigil. He was the master of the village of Brockton, which lay beyond the bridge. A hideous Ogre had taken his wife and children hostage. The Ogre had demanded that the knight guard the bridge or his family would be forfeit.

The duel

Sir Grimble Bobbleberry rolled his eyes when he heard this story. “Very well, I accept your challenge. Let us fight!” Jonulf, Nameless X and Aldo stood and watched as the two battled. Sir Grimble wielded the Halberd of Ereworn. Jonulf could tell that Sir Edgard’s shield was enchanted also. Weapons and armour clashed and clanged as the two fought backwards and forwards on the bridge. But soon, Sir Grimble’s halberd dealt Sir Edgard a grievous blow. Blood splashed over his armour. “Do you yield?” asked Sir Grimble.

“I yield,” panted Sir Edgard.

As his prize, Sir Grimble demanded that the knight rise and accompany them to liberate his family from the Ogre and his goblin minions.

Brockton Manor

In the grey pre-dawn light the adventurers approached Brockton Manor. The village around was still asleep. Some smoke drifted from a few chimneys but the windows of the houses were dark. As had been arranged, Jonulf positioned himself with his bow near the front of the two-storey mansion in the shadow of a nearby hut. Nameless X scampered up the wall and lowered himself into the unused chimney. The others approached the back door, to which Sir Edgard possessed a key.

Inside the mansion

Nameless X stealthily lowered himself down the chimney and scouted inside. The upper floor overlooked the main hall, where a low fire burned. Suspended over the balcony via a thick rope was an iron cage containing Sir Edgard’s wife and children. Two goblins slept by the fire. Filled with the need to exterminate vermin, Nameless X murdered the first of these, but the second awoke with a cry and evaded the death-blow. More goblins emerged from above, armed with slings and a great roar could be heard from the bedroom.

At the back door

Despite the knights’ impatience, Aldo used his sorcery to see beyond the walls. He saw the Ogre in the bedroom and the sleeping goblins. He also saw that the door was bolted. However, thanks to another deft magic spell the door sprang open. Sir Grimble and Sir Edgard ran into the bedroom to confront the Ogre while Aldo and Nameless X tried to deal with the goblins. Nameless X slashed about him with Duke Darian’s sword while Aldo fired bolts of flame from his fingers.

At the front door

Jonulf heard the commotion and was disturbed by it. He couldn’t tell if his friends needed help. He edged up to try the front door but it was bolted. Things sounded serious inside so he decided to go round the back.

When he arrived he immediately saw Aldo and Nameless X engaged with goblins. A goblin had jumped up on the cage rope and was cutting through it with a knife. Jonulf gasped, then took aim with his bow, calmed his mind and loosed his arrow. The goblin fell off the rope and crashed below.

There was a mighty crash. One of the knights – was it Sir Grimble? had felled the Ogre. With a tittering shriek the goblins tried to flee. They moved fast but Jonulf managed to fell one and wound another before they got away.

Brockton restored

The ogre had been defeated. Sir Edgard’s family were unharmed and his lands were restored to him. The knight was very grateful to his rescuers.

Back to the Nameless Village

Along the mountain trails, Sir Grimble finds his lost steed Lady Buttercup. Jonulf finds a dead knight’s furs to keep out the chill.

Foaming Ale

The Duke’s death is announced to general jubilation. The village elder grants our heroes the freedom of the village — to the inkeepers annoyance. For three days, the lumpy beds and poor food of the Horned Satyr are home; and like paradise to poor tortured Jonulf, who slowly regains his strength. Sir Grimble drinks steadily.

Midnight visitors

Nameless X, restless, sees hideous shapes outlined against the moon. Three monsters land near the village. One vomits in the well while the others menace the cattle. Nameless X bolts for the field while Jonulf wakes the snoring Sir Grimble and Aldo of the Magnificently Coloured Robe.

Aldo uses sorcery to Command the well monster to attack its fellows. It does so but gets torn apart by the things. Nameless X closes, flinging glinting throwing stars. Aldo blasts impressively ineffective flaming bolts at the creatures.

Sir Grimble emerges from the inn, armour-clad and shouting war cries. Jonulf gets into the spirit of things and blows the magical hunting horn which he has carried from Duke Darrian’s castle. To his horror four red-eyed hellhounds, snapping and growling, coalesce from the mist. They don’t look at all friendly, and they leap towards Jonulf and the knight.

Out in the fields Nameless X slashes the monsters with his magical longsword while flaming bolts flicker past in the night; he chops one, then another, killing the creatures. But one foul beak pecks him on the neck, drawing blood.

Sir Grimble’s armour protects him from the worst of the snapping hellhounds, as he lays about him with the Halberd of Ereworn. Jonulf, inspired by the knight’s ramblings about courage and war, stabs one then another with his shortsword. They wound two and the others slink off. But Sir Grimble pursues — he doesn’t want these things worrying the village. Aldo joins them as they follow the blood trail to the edge of the forest. There they find the remaining hellhounds and put paid to them.

Purifying the temple

The trap-door

Beyond the throne room, coffins upon coffins: one above, pulsing magic and six below an old trap-door, rotten through but Jonulf so frail from torture that he skips over it like a child. But where is the pale visitor?

Attack of the wolf

No pale man but the direst of wolves haunts the halls beyond. If not for strong blows from Sir Grimble, Nameless X and Aldo, they and Jonulf too would be wolf-food.

Towers, crypts and gates

The tower of illusions

Up, up the darkened northern tower, pursued by chittering shadows, Jonulf recoils from the door at the top but its dangers are mundane: a spear trap, deftly sidestepped. Beyond the door is the bedroom of the dead lady Alyssa, who preferred to starve to death rather than endure the Duke’s company – and who could blame her?

Coffin-crawler Jonulf

Nameless X decided that lantern-bearer Jonulf should earn his keep; the rest lower him down to the six sarcophagi. All are empty but one, plush with cushions: the coffin of the pale one. That one is not here, but a mirror-gate leads back to the kitchens and courtyard.

The halberd of Ereworn

A weapons room in chaos near the exit and there, gleaming, the Halberd of Ereworn. But axes, arrows and swords fling themselves at our heroes. Brave Sir Grimble risks the blows and grasps the halberd from its resting place.

Walking free

The Duke is dead. The companions pause to bury their former companion Zagro. They walk from the dark castle toward the Pagan Mountains and Jonulf’s monastery.

The upper levels

Knight Fight

Two black knights and their whelps heard the hubbub and gave chase. Arrows took the hounds; spears and blade to the rest.

Throne of Evil

Strange tapestries wove flying devils which screeched and attacked. A secret compartment in the throne unfurled a ribbon stair from above.

The Cultist

A putrid temple with a mad old priest. More demons caged, then released.

Guardroom

Black guards aplenty with gambling decks. Taken by surprise; no chance for them now.

Fake Duke

A rich bed with a foul occupant, quickly dispatched. Nameless X found a shiny (but useless) sword and a secret door behind the grate.

Duke Darrian

First Nameless then Sir Grimble imprisoned with a glance. The old Duke stands there, a phantom swordsman by his side. Zagro drinks a potion and leaps, a snarling sabretooth – into deadly lightning bolts from the sorcerer’s hands. The phantom strikes and misses Aldo, who hurls the spear of Ereworn —

The old and frail body of Duke Darian is dead and bleeding on the floor of the top room of his tower, impaled on the Spear of Ereworn. The body of Zagro the Warlock lies nearby, a large hole burnt into his side and his fine ringmail torn asunder by the evil magic of the Duke. Sir Grimble Bobbleberry is saddened by the passing of his friend, even though he was a strange foreigner with a large nose and Bobbleberry had trouble remembering his name. Aldo of the Brilliantly Coloured Robe is feeling much relieved as there is no longer a phantom sword hanging over his head. Nameless X examines the sword he picked out of Darian’s dead hands, wondering if it will also snap as easily as the one he found on the floor below. Meanwhile Jonulf, the rescued prisoner, hangs back near the entrance. He is excited that a segment of the Crystal of Elvaron has been found, despite also feeling sad at the loss of his good friend Merec, priest of the True Faith, who was tortured to death in Darian’s dungeons. He is suffering from malnutrition, fatigue and atrophy, and has a mental block that is preventing the use of the mind techniques he was taught by his mentor. Hopefully he can overcome his psychic block and help rid Ereworn of its curse.

Into the dungeons

After a rough night in the abandoned room in Ereworn Castle, the four adventurers Sir Grimble Bobbleberry, Zagro the Warlock, Aldo of the Brilliantly Coloured Robe and Nameless X descended past the kitchen to the cellar. But the steps kept descending to a strange underground dining room. Rotting food and trash covered the tables, but the torches were lit and a curious magical fire burned without cease in the grate. Zagro found a secret cupboard with motionless zombie servants; he shut the door hastily. Nameless X noticed a passageway beyond the fireplace. He dived through the fire but could not escape some burns.

The Jailer

In the corridor beyond, Nameless X heard — and saw — a huge man approaching: the Jailer! Hearing Nameless’ shouts, the others joined the battle. The jailer captured Sir Grimble with a magical chain, but died soon.

Torture chamber

They found the prison and torture chamber. A man was tormented on the rack by skeletons with red-hot pokers. He was Jonulf, a broken mystic.

The Oubliette

Something called for help from one of the dark oubliette’s near the prison. But ascending the rope was a monstrous thing indeed, and hard to kill.

Black knight attack

They climbed up stairs from the prison, and found themselves in one of the towers. A black knight attacked them, in vain.

Zombie archers

Zombie archers aimed their weapons into the courtyard below; they did not expect to be attacked from the towers. The adventurers made short work of them.

The broken window

The wind howled through a broken window in front of an empty pedestal in a great hall. Weary Jonulf explained the history of the crystal with which the last sorcerer-king had kept evil from the kingdom, and what happened after.

The miserable village had little but good cheer for the heroes as they set off to put paid to the hated Duke. Zagro did persuade the blacksmith to repair his spear (which had been bitten by a magical fountain in the woods).

The high road and the low

There was one quick way to the Duke’s mountain castle — a mysterious black carriage led by black horses which the Duke sent to a certain clearing in the woods. Zagro, Aldo and Sir Grimble had seen it before. This time Aldo and Nameless jumped inside. Zagro and Sir Grimble decided to ride alongside. The carriage lurched off, and the two followed at an easy pace until an unseasonable storm blew up in the mountains. Snow flurries almost blinded the riders and they lost sight of the carriage.

The black carriage

Inside the carriage it seemed to Aldo and Nameless X that it was lurching along at a furious pace, bumping and bouncing along the mountain path. Before too long it lurched on to a cobbled path and into the gates of a mountain fortress. It came to rest in a torchlit courtyard. Arrows began to fly from the slit windows above! Also and Nameless X dodged and weaved, and found their way through a kitchen doorway. Traversing a few more doors and they were attacked some of the Duke’s mechanical armoured guards. Aldo and Nameless beat them off and retreated upwards through a trap door to one of the outer towers of the castle. This area seemed quieter and more defensible than the rest of the fortress, so they decided to rest a while.

Yeti attack!

In the snowstorm Zagro and Sir Grimble encountered a monstrous Yeti, which slashed the warlock with its powerful claws. Zagro impaled it with his spear and the monster retreated into the snow. Sir Grimble spotted a light through the flurries and they made their way to a fire in front of a cave. A serene-looking man sat there, dressed in white robes but not apparently feeling the cold. He invited the pair to share his fire. The man told a tale of petitioning the Duke, only to have the tyrant unleash his dogs upon him. Sir Grimble became particularly sleepy, but Zagro stayed awake. To his surprise the white-robed man vanished. Sir Grimble slept soundly. In the grey light of morning they searched the cave and found a skeleton dressed in tattered white robes and a small chest of potions.

Invisible bridge

Zagro and Sir Grimble followed the mountain path to a narrow bridge. Something about that bridge seemed odd to Zagro — he realised it was an illusion covering a deep abyss. Not far away were carriage tracks which seemed to lead directly toward a chasm, but with a step of faith Zagro and Sir Grimble realised the invisible bridge was solid. They continued on their way as a cry of rage emanated from the chasm.

Reunited

Nameless X spotted Sir Grimble and Zagro approaching the keep. He and Aldo waved to them. Zagro used his sorcery to levitate Sir Grimble’s rope across the moat which divided the tower from the path. Then they clambered up, leaving their black steeds behind.

From the Runes of Skagharin

The wizard’s workroom

Sure enough, Moonshadow had found trouble. He had wandered downstairs, back to the cellar, and found a secret door. Fortunately Freilen (who always seemed to have his eye on the tall elf) noticed his departure and led the others down after him. They found a secret workroom. There were several more zombies surrounding the body of a wizard. Even more disturbing — a pentagram was inscribed on the floor. It contained a hateful undead creature which looked evilly at the companions. The zombies attacked and were quickly dealt with. Dintari warned the others not to obscure the pentacle. The wizard, it turned out, was still alive, though barely.

Wizard’s treasure

Behind the pentagram, perilously close to it, was a door. Moonshadow deftly crept through it but Skagharin wanted to go no closer to the thing in the pentagram. Freilen also slipped by. Moonshadow emerged with reports of a hidden chest of treasure. Skagharin’s eyes lit up — but he still kept his eye on the undead thing in the circle. After recovering the treasure, they sealed the cellar with the undead thing still inside.

Buried treasure

It was Frankie who had the idea of burying the treasure on the island; all agreed. They found a deserted beach not far from the forest, and buried the treasure deep, for later recovery. Then they considered what to do with the mage.

In the end, they carried the vegetative wizard back to Lord Urgyle and explained the situation. Urgyle asked many questions, but in the end he released his prisoner, Ragnar of Durndorth

Ragnar of Durndorth

Skagharin gave a show of treating Ragnar roughly on the way back to Lassa’s Grace, but once on board he released the dwarf from his bonds and told him of their mission. Ragnar was keen to return to Durndorth but Skagharin insisted he should instead return to Owain the Merchant in Criggen Varas. He had no wish to linger longer on the Isle of Scarsy.

Return to Criggen Varas

Lassa’s Grace pulled out with the morning tide. As the Isle of Scarsy fell away, Skagharin felt some relief at having evaded Lord Urgyle’s tax-collectors. He knew they must return — both to collect their buried treasure and possibly to help Ragnar back to his homeland, but for now the dangers of Enom Tor were behind them.

From the Runes of Skagharin

Enom Tor

Blood in the snow

It was Wodensday the 21st of Baelmonth, a still, cold day. Skagharin and his friends trudged through through the silent snowy woods towards the beacon tower of Enom Tor. Expecting trouble, Skagharin had donned his mail shirt and carried his new double-handed hammer. Apart from the mail it was almost like his old mining days. Suddenly — THWACK, he walked into a low hanging branch. He needed to keep his mind on the present.

They had not gone far before Freilin spotted a large splash of blood on the snow. Nearby was the oversized paw print of some kind of giant feline. Lions? Wild cats? There was no body and no drag marks. They moved on cautiously, staying upwind of the bloodstain.

The tower

The tower was built on a wide undercroft. There was no sign of life as they approached, so Freilin, Moonshadow and Frankie crept past the door, which was hanging half off its hinges. Dintari and Skagharin stood guard outside — until the sudden scrape and crash of furniture alerted them that all was not well.

Monstrous felines

They found a chaotic scene. Furniture was scattered and upended. In the doorway of the bedroom were two bizarre cat-like creatures, jet black with clawed tentacles waving menacingly from their hindquarters. Frankie was trying to push a table to block the doorway, but was straining and struggling. Moonshadow and Freilin readied their bows to either side.

Skagharin rushed to the table and shoved with considerable force. The table screeched to the door, but the cat-thing was faster. It burst through, knocking the table over onto Frankie and the dwarf — only to receive Moonshadow’s arrow through its eye at point blank range. It shuddered and collapsed.

The second black tentacular feline leaped through, swatting Skagharin with its tentacles as it did so. If he had not been wearing mail, the vicious claws would have ended his life. As it was he was bruised and winded from the blow. The creature seemed to shimmer when his companions struck at it; they often missed. Raising his hammer high Skagharin smashed the creature’s spine. Moonshadow blasted it almost simultaneously with his pretty pretty magical darts. For the first time ever Skagharin saw a gleam of respect in the elf’s eyes.

After the fight

All was quiet once the dreadful cat-things had been killed. Skagharin and Freilin had both been wounded. When Skagharin tried to physick Freilin, the stunted one passed out from the pain. Moonshadow did a similar botched job on Skagharin’s wound. Elves!

Meanwhile, Dintari and Frankie explored. They found a kitchen and pantry and they cooked up some food while waiting for Freilin to regain consciousness. Moonshadow found a locked chest with some gold, a silver dagger and two potions. Skagharin claimed the dagger, and Freilin (when he awoke) drank one potion and revived considerably.

The Cellar

They continued to explore. In the cellar were four zombies who pursued them up the stairs and were easily destroyed. The cellar contained alchemical ingredients, some of which were valuable.

Heights of the tower

Leaving the cellar, they ascended the stairs, past a storeroom and up to a trapdoor which felt strangely warm. Pushing through the trapdoor they found themselves in a light-filled room, full of steamy vegetation. The air was warm and earthy. The walls were made of white-coloured glass. An iron spiral staircase wound up through the centre of the room. Chained to the floor was a strange bird-headed humanoid. Frankie gave the creature some food and cautiously approached. The bird-man seemed non-hostile and intelligent, so Frankie unlocked its manacles. The birdman ran out and downstairs.

The Bellows Fellow

Above the garden was the top of the tower. The beacon was there, unlit. A solitary zombie pumped a bellows which had become detached from the foghorn. Frankie rushed over and killed the zombie. The tower was quiet, no sign of the mage Carthadon. It seemed the beasts below had escaped from captivity and..maybe eaten him? Skagharin looked down at the island below, then looked around him. Where was Moonshadow?

From the Runes of Skagharin

The Outer Islands

A winter voyage

It was the 16th day of Baelmonth, winter time and not the best for sea voyaging. Nevertheless Skagharin and his crew reckoned it would be possible to make the Isle of Scarsy. Skagharin knew of the place through his travels up and down this coast. He estimated about three days’ sail. Fortune’s fickle though; he estimated wrongly. Soon Lassa’s Grace was outfitted and the city of Criggen Varas slipped away abaft the beam.

Corpse afloat

After a day or so, Frankie spotted what looked like a raft with a castaway aboard. Skagharin steered the ship close by and Frankie jumped down to investigate. As he did so, Skagharin heard a noise on the other side of the ship. He turned and saw fish-like boarders creeping up over the railing.

Sea-devil attack!

Moonshadow, Freilin, Dintari and Skagharin rushed to defend their ship. More fish-men emerged from the sea, firing crossbow bolts from the water. Meanwhile Frankie found only a bloated corpse on the raft below — a baited trap! The battle was short and sharp. Skagharin and Freilin were wounded with arrows but the sea-devils were driven off the boat and back to the briny depths.

Man overboard

A day after the seadevil attack a sudden gust of wind almost tipped the boat over. Everyone was jolted, but Dintari stumbled and fell overboard. Frankie tied a rope to himself and swan dived — only to crack his head on the railing and plummet into the water unconscious. Two men overboard! Cursing, Skagharin dived in to save his friend (who was a poor swimmer), while the elves hauled Frankie aboard. Wet and bedraggled, they continued their voyage to the Isle of Scarsy.

Isle of Scarsy

Lassa’s Grace floated into Scarsy Harbour after six days at sea. Scarsy Town was a typical small fishing village. The crew disembarked and made their way to a harbourside tavern. After some warming ales, the locals recommended a visit to the local lord, Lord Urgyle. They were more reticent with regard to Ragnar of Derndorth, though they did mention a colony of dwarves elsewhere on the island.

Meeting with Lord Urgyle

It was a short trip up the hill to Lord Urgyle’s manor. After a brief wait he granted them an audience. As it turned out, his opinion of Ragnar of Derndorth was low: “a smuggler and a thief”. Dintari gave him the impression that Ragnar was wanted for further punishment by Owain of Criggen Varas. Urgyle agreed to hand over the dwarf in exchange for help with a certain matter. The nearby beacon tower of Carthadon had gone dark, except for a strange shimmering light a week ago. The healer in charge of the tower had made no report. Urgyle wanted someone to investigate. Dintari agreed to perform the task.

From the Runes of Skagharin

Sea voyage to Criggen Varas

Farewell to Brutarl

Lassa’s Grace made ready to cast off from Skull Island and its miserable village. But Brutarl was having none of it. He plucked his weapons and some treasures from the hold and strode off into the hills, barely looking back.

Aground…at sea

Things were a lot quieter without impatient Brutarl around. The ship sailed through the waves and Skagharin was slightly cheered by finally having another halfway competent sailor on board. But Fate punishes those who get too cocky, and there was a terrible wrenching sound as the boat struck a submerged rock. Skagharin cursed but Lassa’s Grace did not break up and he managed to steer the her out of danger. He ignored Moonshadow’s scornful gaze. If that preening alien would spend as much time learning to sail as combing his hair these dangers might never have happened!

Tower in the sea

The next day, Freilen spotted a strange tower in the sea. Skagharin altered course to investigate. It was a stone tower with shuttered windows. Its closed wooden door was very close to sea level, though not awash. The crew disembarked to investigate. Frankie heard a strange splash near the boat, but saw nothing. Frelin considered climbing up to the tower window. Suddenly the tower trembled. Skagharin ordered everyone back to the boat. No sooner than they had boarded Lassa’s Grace and cast off, the mysterious tower sank beneath the waves.

Criggen Varas

On the fourth day at sea they sighted Criggen Varas. They paid the harbour taxes and went ashore. Dintari, Skagharin and Frankie visited the market place to sell their treasures, while the elves remained aboard. Skagharin let Dintari do the talking.

After selling their wares, the crew of Lassa’s Grace sought the merchant Owain, father of the unfortunate Melisana. His mansion was up on the hill.

The house of Owain

Owain was very distressed to hear of his daughter’s death. The adventurers retired to their inn but later received a message from the merchant. He apologised for his rudeness and invited them to share his hospitality, but please not to attend his daughter’s funeral. The mansion was very comfortable after the rigours of the last few weeks.

Skagharin spent some time training. After all he had seen, he had decided he needed more skill in heavy combat, not just tavern-brawling. And if it were to be heavy, no bones about it then. None of this prancing about like an elf. He bought himself a huge double-handed hammer, quite similar to his mining sledgehammers of old; it would crack skulls as well as rocks if necessary.

Adventurers’ bond

Later, Owain sent for the adventurers again. There was, he said, a dwarf named Ragnar of Derndorth, a trading partner from Scarsy, one of the outer islands of Ellesland. This Ragnar had disappeared a few months back, and Owain was keen to contact him over some unpaid debts. Owain agreed to pay 400 gold if Ragnar could be found.

Skagharin, Moonshadow, Dintari, Freilin and Frankie eyed each other. They had faced many dangers together. They agreed to stay together and adventure aboard Lassa’s Grace, sharing any treasure gained. Dintari accepted Owain’s offer.

From the Runes of Skagharin

Top of the sink hole

Skagharin heaved himself to the top of the sinkhole, along with his companions. He noted with distaste that Dintari had carried the demon-worshipping priest up with them. The priest still lived, though he was unconscious. “What did you bring him up for?”, he asked irritably. Dintari shrugged. A chilly grey sky pressed down on Skull Island. Skagharin shivered. The priest Alefric led them back to his stone temple, where the fires of Brigantia still roared in the hearth. Moonshadow was injured; he slumped in the corner. They tied and gagged the priest. Skagharin examined the strange crystal. It was orange in colour, glowed slightly, and was like no rock Skagharin had seen on earth or under it.

Fire and food

It had been an eventful night, but Skagharin did not feel like rest. He wandered the island with Alefric in search of food, but also to scout out the territory by daylight. Alefric pointed out a small bay with a usable dinghy pulled ashore. “The villagers used it,” he said. The two also passed a deeper sinkhole, and the old watchtower which was now a nesting place for eagles. Alefric and Skagharin climbed up and down the cliffs to gather eggs for breakfast.

When they returned to the temple, Freilen had been interrogating the prisoner. Freilen said the priest had offered him great wealth. Skagharin was skeptical. “The only wealth in this entire village is the inkeeper’ s better stuffs — but we saw none of that.” Freilen noted consternation in the priest’ s eyes at the mention of the inn.

When everyone was up and breakfasted, they decided to investigate the eagles’ tower. They dragged the priest along too.

Eagles of the tower

The eagles swooped and keened over the tower. How to get them to move on without killing them? Skagharin glanced at the demon-priest in disgust. This one would happily have ended all their lives; Freilen pointed out a skeleton at the base of the tower and Skagharin nodded. They staked out the priest, still bound and gagged. One of the eagles swooped to investigate, and Brutarl and Moonshadow advanced to the tower. The other eagle swooped to attack, but Skagharin threw a rock at it and it dispersed, giving the warriors their chance to make the safety of the tower. They reached the top soon afterwards and lit a huge fire. Screaming with rage, the eagles flew away from the tower. The demon priest was dead. Skagharin and Dintari hurled his eyeless body into the sinkhole.

Ill-gotten gains

They bade farewell to Alefric, who from now on would be able to man the old lighthouse, and departed Skull Island. They returned to the inn in the village, the Silver Halyard. Captain Rakehell was there, behind the bar now. Skagharin comiserated with him on the loss of his ship, making no mention of the strange crystal. Brutarl and Skagharin started drinking, while Moonshadow and Freilen investigated below. After only a few drinks, Skagharin heard noises below. He descended and saw a cellar stuffed with barrels and bolts of cloth — stolen from wrecked ships. Freilen, Moonshadow and a strange human were staring at the contents of a chest. Skagharin stuck his head in to admire the gold. Moonshadow started guiltily. “And who is this?” asked Skagharin of the stranger.

“Frankie, a navigator held captive by the wreckers.”

Skagharin rubbed his chin. Navigator, eh? Lassa’s Grace had need of competent crew. Adlek had been brave, but not competent. Maybe this newcomer would sail with them?

Frankie joined them, and they loaded as much loot as they could in Lassa’s Grace, and set sail with the morning tide.

From the Runes of Skagharin

Skull Island

Beneath the Island

Adlek spied a tunnel across the dark water from the wrecked Black Pearl. The others used barrels and rope to get themselves over the lake. The tunnel seemed unused, and had a salty smell. It led up beneath the island. At the first junction they turned right (both ways smelled fishy to Skagharin) but the tunnel was soon submerged. They returned the other way and found themselves on a ledge near the bottom of a deep shaft.

Bottom of the well

Coins glinted below, and Brutarl leaped for them. Skagharin ignored him and pondered the ascent. The walls were very smooth and difficult — but not impossible — to climb. Brutarl complained that the coins were worthless and Skagharin rolled his eyes. Then Freilen, the strange ugly elf muttered some incantation and began to creep up the smooth sides of the well like a weird spider. Skagharin shuddered slightly, but watched as the elf made it to the top, and reported in a whisper that it was open air above. The elf may have used magic, but the rest of them would need something more tangible. Skagharin and Dintari returned to wreck to retrieve some rope and a barrel. These things in hand and lifted to the top by Freilen, it was a fairly quick matter to haul everyone to the surface.

The stone building

They emerged from a well near a stone building with shuttered windows, surrounded by a high stone wall. There was light behind the shutters, but they decided to explore around first. They reached a corner of the compound and saw strangely active trees, which whipped at them. They beat a retreat from the trees and Moonshadow slipped his knife under the latch of the shutters.

“WHO’S THERE?” came a voice from within. The shutters were thrown open by an old man in white robes.

Priest of Brigantia

Dintari asked him if he had wrecked the ship below but he denied it. He said the villagers were demon-worshippers; that they had done this deed. The man identified himself as Alefric, a priest of Brigantia. He calmed the wild trees and invited the crew into his temple, which was warmed by a huge flaming hearth.

Alefric told the tale of Skull Island, of how a great wave had washed over it and drowned its inhabitants; of the old signal tower now abandoned and a nesting place for eagles; and of the demon-worshipping villagers who slipped about between the village and the island by means of tunnels and sinkholes. The old man offered to take the adventurers to one of these sinkholes this very night. They agreed.

The sink-hole

The old man led them past the ruins of the village to a deep hole in the ground. He cleared some vegetation to reveal ancient stone steps leading down. Moonshadow and Freilen descended, supposedly stealthily, but Skagharin could hear them clattering away below.

Descent

Unfortunately, Skagharin was not the only one to hear the elves. There was the sound of fighting from below, and Skagharin and the rest hurried down the steps to help. They came into a lighted chamber at the bottom, filled with candles and the flayed skins of bizarre sea creatures. Moonshadow, looking paler than usual, clutched a bloody wound. On the floor was a dead harpooner in bloodied robes.

Cave of the Cultists

They followed a corridor from the underground shrine. Ahead was the sound of chanting. Adlek, Moonshadow and Freilen crept ahead to observe a cave with an underground lake filled with villager cultists. On a promontory in the lake stood the priest with a dagger in one hand and a glowing gem in the other. A sacrificial victim lay shrouded below him.

Moonshadow and Freilen immediately tried to shoot the priest with arrows. Brutarl charged and roared his battle cry — but the strange accoustics of the water cave dampened his voice to a weak whisper. The cultists were unaffected. Dintari and Skagharin advanced, along with Alefric, whose staff blazed with fire. Skagharin lit an oil flask on the staff and flung it into the cultists, who had pulled out cudgels and were advancing. Brutarl and Dintari pulled out their swords and began to hack and slay. Suddenly darkness enveloped all; the evil priest had cast some magic at the cave entrance. But Alefric performed some counterspell and the darkness lifted

A watery grave

The priest was punctured with arrows from the elves, but it did not stop him from sacrificing his victim. As he fought, Skagharin noticed disturbingly large ripples forming on the surface of the dark cave water. Skagharin heard a sickening crack and Adlek screamed as a cultist clubbed him down. The priest collapsed and the fight was turning against the cultists, but now the presence in the water was making itself felt. It was time to retreat. Skagharin leaped to the promontory, grabbed the gem and was going to grab Adlek, but the sailor shook his head. Skagharin rushed for the door as a great wave erupted from the cave, flooding the tunnel, bashing the survivors against the walls. With great effort, Skagharin retained his footing and made it to the sinkhole, where the rising water lapped against the steps. He made it up and rejoined his companions, battered but alive — except for Adlek who had perished in the waters below.

From the Runes of Skagharin

Midnight’s ebb tide

The tower and the rope

They came to the clifftop. A tower stood there, next to an iron ring with a rope hanging down to the ocean. Skagharin lowered himself down the rope while Dintari stood guard above. Skagharin kept an eye out for caves during his descent, but saw nothing. The rope trailed in the heaving waves below. Skagharin returned to where Dintari waited. The others had gone into the tower, except for Freilen, who stood quietly at the cliff’s edge watching the sea. Dintari and Skagharin shrugged to each other and entered the tower.

Near the dim entryway was a pile of driftwood. Skagharin selected a piece with a label: ‘The Black…’. The Black Pearl had been the drunken captain’s ship, thought Skagharin. He and Dintari ascended the spiral stairs and found Lorien Moonshadow, Brutarl and the new sailor Adlek Veltani standing over the corpse of a rock-thing, possibly a gargoyle. There was a large unlit signal fire built from driftwood on the top of the tower nearby. Although it was late afternoon, Skull island was only barely visible through raggedy clouds.

A drab meal

There was nought to be done until the tide turned, so the adventurers returned to the Silver Halyard in the village. The mad captain was gone; only the sour barkeep to serve them a tasteless meal. At midnight’s ebb tide they ventured back to the cliffs, pale in the moonlight, and this time the rope touched dry land.

Down among the Teeth

They descended, one after the other, to the moist sand dune and the sharp peaks of the rocks known as the Teeth. The wrecks of various ships lay marooned among them. They passed first one, then another, seeking the Black Pearl. From one hulk they heard noises and saw footprints leading from the water. They hurried on.

The sea cave

With the tide out, Skull Island was now a peninsula rather than an island, and it loomed up in the darkness ahead. Lorien Moonshadow saw a huge cave in its near side, and drag marks and footprints indicated a wreck had been towed inside. The androgynous elf disappeared into the darkness to investigate, shadowed very closely by his ugly friend Freilin.

The Black Pearl, discovered

Moonshadow returned, saying the cave was large and the ship was within. Not wanting to linger for the tide to take them, Skagharin and the others entered the cave, which was wide and sandy-floored. They marched for some time, following the boat tracks. At length they arrived in a subterranean lake, lit dimly by glowing fungi. In the lake was the wreck they sought — the Black Pearl.

Zombies ahoy!

Adlek swam out to the boat and climbed up to the foc’sle. Before he could take a look around, shambling zombies emerged from belowdecks and shuffled towards him. Moonshadow and Freilin drew their long bows and began to rain arrows on the hideous crew. Brutarl and Skagharin immediately headed to the water. Skagharin was a good swimmer but the barbarian shot past him and clambered effortlessly up the side of the hulk. Dintari, none too good a swimmer tried hurling a rock, then shrugged and waded carefully into the water.

Adlek was holding off the zombies at the stairs to the forecastle when Brutarl arrived. Brutarl wielded Peacemaker and chopped zombies left and right, while arrows rained down from the elves on shore. Dintari and Skagharin arrived. Dintari charged to join the fight while Skagharin hurled belaying pins at the undead. Soon, their corpses were dismembered and still.

Rum ration

The ship had been stripped of all valuables except an intact barrel of rum, which Skagharin broke and doled out to the others. It was good rum, but where was the treasure they sought? Deeper in this sea cave, no doubt. Skull Island held more mysteries.

From the Runes of Skagharin

Return to Vorgenheim

Lassa’s Grace returned to Vorgenheim. A foreign-looking sailor noted her arrival. He asked Skagharin if he could join the crew. Skagharin looked him up and down.
“Can you sail?” he asked.
“Certainly!”
“You are hired.”
Without another word Skagharin walked up the hill with his companions to Eorl Vorgen’s hall.

Eorl Vorgen was true to his word. He rewarded the adventurers with a bag of gold, and repairs from Vorgenheim’s shipwright. When these were done, it was time to depart from Vorgenheim.

Bad weather off Ereworn

The destination was Criggen Varas, the capital of Cornumbria and the home of Melisana’s family. Dintari and the others had suggested they travel there to inform her father of her death. Skagharin set sail for the west coast of Ellesland, past Ereworn and Glissom (familar coasts to him). While on the Erewornian coast, he saw a huge storm coming. To Skagharin’s disgust, the new sailor proved a liar; he could not sail at all. Having no competent crew, Skagharin guided Lassa’s Grace to a small bay to wait out the storm. All night long the thunder rolled and lightning flashed, but the boat was safe.

Skull Island

The next day, Lassa’s Grace passed Skull Island, a knob of rock separated from the mainland by a partially-submerged causeway. A number of wrecked ships were there, including some quite recent arrivals. The crew were keen to investigate, but did not want to risk Lassa’s Grace in dangerous waters. They pulled the boat on to the pebbly beach of a nearby village.

Tales in the Silver Halyard

Skagharin, Dintari, Moonshadow, Freilen and Brutarl entered the village and paused at the creaking sign of the Silver Halyard. There they found a sodden sea captain, who told them of being wrecked the previous night, and the treasure he was carrying to Criggen Varas. At the word ‘treasure’, everyone sat up. Skagharin and Dintari tried to get the captain as drunk as possible, and then they all sneaked out of the village along the cliff-path towards the lighthouse at Skull Island.

From the Runes of Skagharin

Daylight on Reaver’s Isle

Skagharin emerged from the underground feeling quite satisfied. He found Thulanders moving to and fro, taking supplies from the stockade to their boats. Svein Karlssen was among them. With him were several slaves including a queer-looking, quiet short one — some kind of extremely ugly Elf by the looks of it. Skagharin felt uneasy. "We leave by the morning tide, " said Karlssen. “This one goes with you.” He gestured to the odd slave.

“What are we, some sort of elder race clearing house?” muttered Skagharin under his breath, but neither Moonshadow nor the others said anything, so Skagharin shrugged and said “Our boat lies this way. Can you sail?”

“No,” said the ugly stranger.

Bodies on the beach

They marched north. Parius expressed a desire to visit the stone circle in the swamp. “Didn’t you have enough of being sucked under the earth there last time?” asked the dwarf. But Parius said it was different now, and he lingered alone to perform some ritual. Skagharin, Dintari, Brutarl, Moonshadow and the new stranger, who called himself Freilen marched north to the bay.

When they got to the dunes they spied figures on the beach. Armed figures, surrounding a bound figure. “I have some skill with scouting,” said Freilen. “I can see who they are.” He crept off, unusually quietly. Lorien Moonshadow waved his hands and disappeared. Damnable elves and their ways! Skagharin was glad to be rid of them. “What are we waiting for?” said Brutarl, spoiling for a fight. Skagharin marvelled at his unusual forbearance.

The fight came. “Three goblins surrounding a woman.” said Freilin, returning as quietly as he’d left. It must be Melisana! Down on the beach, Lorien had already begun the attack, popping out of invisibility. Brutarl and Dintari rushed down the dunes to join the fight. Freilen and Skagharin threw some rocks (and Skagharin noticed a third rock thrower to their right), then Skagharin pulled out his daggers and joined the fight. Soon the goblins were dead or dying, but Melisana was also beyond help. Dintari fell to his knees, distraught.

The evening tide

Parius joined them at the boat and they gave Melisana a burial at sea. Dintari recalled that her family lived at Criggen Varras in Cornumbria, so they resolved to travel there after collecting their reward at Vorgenheim. There was one more passenger (Skagharin rolled his eyes). The third rock-thrower in the dunes was of course Jorry Muttonchops, the escaped halfling slave. The evening tide came in and Lassa’s Grace sailed away from Reaver’s Isle.

From the Runes of Skagharin

Pool of Evil

Brutarl was bored. He followed the tunnel to the dark grotto, followed by Moonshadow, Parius and (somewhat reluctantly) Skagharin and Dintari. The pool of dark water was surrounded by murals depicting men and women taking the healing waters. “Something Evil is here,” whispered Parius.A watery female figure was standing in the centre of the pool, seemingly on the surface of the water. “Come, bathe in my waters!” she smiled.
Brutarl stepped into the water, much to the consternation of his colleagues.
“Come back, Brutarl,” said Parius.
At the cave entrance, Dintari and Skagharin began looping a lasso to capture the unruly barbarian and drag him from the pool if necessary.
Brutarl noticed some still bodies in the corner of the room. “What about those?”
The lady chuckled. “The healing waters…did not agree with them!”
Moonshadow nocked an arrow and aimed it at the watery woman, whose eyes had begun to glow like fire. Brutarl stepped back. Then Moonshadow loosed his arrow and all Hell broke loose. Watery tentacles streamed towards Brutarl and Parius, wrapping around Parius’ throat. Brutarl whipped his magical knife ZKKK and slashed one watery tentacle in half. Moonshadow’s bowstring broke and he and Brutarl decided to retreat from the watery monster. Parius nearly choked but Dintari and Skagharin dragged him back to the tunnel. Skagharin had seen plenty of half-drowned men; he immediately administered ‘Sailor´s Medicine’.

Escape Tunnel

Brutarl, somewhat chastened, followed the others down the long draughty tunnel through which they suspected the evil skeleton-master priest had made his escape earlier. Dintari and Skagharin led the way, looking and listening. Their caution paid off. Dintari spotted a concealed pit with wooden planks pulled over on to the far side. Skagharin climbed around a small ledge and pushed the planks back to the others, who then crossed safely. Later, Dintari spotted a trip wire connected to a deadfall trap. While he and Skagharin debated whether to try to disarm it, Brutarl lost patience, stepped over the trip wire and continued along the corridor. Moonshadow and Parius followed. Skagharin listened to their footsteps for a while and heard no agonised screams; he and Dintari stepped over the wire and followed.

Spider tower

The passage ended at a trap door in the ceiling. Climbing the metal rungs, Skagharin found himself in a ruined tower. Moonshadow was staring into a dark doorway. Skagharin heard rustlings and scuttlings and saw webs within. “Spiders. Best shut the door.” But Moonshadow went in, waving a flaming torch. The spiders came, five of them as big as dogs. Moonshadow, Dintari and Skagharin fought them off quickly. Two tried to escape, but Dintari pierced one with a thrown dagger and Parius (weeping quietly) crushed one with his staff. Moonshadow found the husk of a corpse within, still wearing a gold ring.

The trapdoor had emerged in late afternoon in the woods just south of the stockade. Skagharin could see the vikings moving back and forth to their ship. He spotted Svein Karlssen, who told him they would be leaving on the morning tide. Skagharin was untired, but Moonshadow and Parius desired to rest so they returned to the stockade.

Return to the Pool

The spirit

They awoke refreshed and descended the storeroom steps once more. This time they examined the boarded-up door in the round room. There was a stone corridor with six niches along it. At the end was a round room with a stone slab bearing a skeleton. At once a fearful apparition appeared.
“WHODISTURBS MY REST? WHYCAN I NOTREST IN PEACE?” it demanded.
Parius, Brutarl and Moonshadow panicked and fled down the corridor. Only Skagharin and Dintari remained.
“Why can you not rest in peace, spirit?” asked Skagharin, unfazed by the spirits of human dead.
“ANOTHERCAMEANDSTOLEAWAY MY SKULL. THAT IS WHY I CANNOTREST.”
Skagharin thought. Six empty niches, six skeletons in the priest’s antechamber. “I think we can find your skull, spirit.”
“IF YOU DO THIS I WILLREWARDTHEE”

Dintari and Skagharin hurried back to the round room, pausing to collect their cowering companions from one of the niches. They proceeded straight to the priest’s rooms and searched in vain for the missing skull.

“Maybe we could give him another skull?” suggested Skagharin.

“I think he would know the difference.” Years ago, as a caravan guard, Dintari had read rather too much of some old books, and he recalled references to evil rituals involving skulls which could contaminate an area. The pool! The source of the bane afflicting the island. The skull must be there.

How to get ahead

This time, there was a plan. Brutarl and Moonshadow would attack and distract attention while Skagharin and Dintari (whose weapons were in any case useless against the water creature) would try to find the skull. They entered the grotto. The woman stood there smiling as before, but the chatter was limited. Moonshadow immediately blasted her with his magic. This time it worked and she screamed with anger. The watery tentacles snaked from the pool toward Brutarl (brandishing ZKKK) and Moonshadow.

Skagharin was no sneak but he hoped that the watery thing’s attention was elsewhere as he moved closer to the dark water. He could see Dintari’s torch moving around on the other side of the chamber, and his friends battling the monster. Beyond the waterfall he spotted — a long ledge with a flash of something white. It had to be the skull. He climbed up on the slippery mural which ran around the cave, and made his way to the ledge. One of the watery tentacles lashed at him and he almost lost his balance, but then he grabbed the skull and ran towards Dintari’s torchlight. He clambered down. There was unearthly screaming and he could sense the water rising. The two ran for the exit, hoping the others were following. They did not stop running until they reached the spirit’s resting place.

Reward, and reward

Skagharin and Dintari lifted the slab and found a round shield, a short spear and a pair of bracers. They returned to the others where they found the grotto peaceful and calm, a much smaller trickle of water falling from the ceiling. Parius was wearing a big grin and babbling about the balance being restored and earth and water elementals and whatnot supernatural shenanigans. But Skagharin was pleased for his friend, and for himself. Things had worked out well.

30th December 2011

The ruins were quiet except for the trickle of water from the carved mouth near the well. Sir Grimble Bobbleberry, Zagro the Warlock and Aldo of the Brilliantly Coloured Robe enjoyed the sunshine while they considered their next foray into Gallows Wood. They had not been thus pondering long before they heard a loud crashing and clumping from the path to the south. From the dark trees emerged a huge Ogre, clutching his head and looking decidedly green about the gills. The three intrepid heroes hid bravely behind a crumbling wall. Zagro peeked out and saw the Ogre slurping water loudly from the well, belching and moaning about his colossal hangover. Aldo wanted to slay the thing but Sir Grimble would have none of it — perhaps it was honour or merely sympathy for a another creature suffering from alcohol poisoning. In time the giant fell a-snoring by the well, and the three crept out and followed the path southwards.

Back in the perpetually dim woods they passed a mysterious faery circle where no vegetation grew, and picked their way carefully around the perimeter. They emerged from the woods to see a ridge. On top of the ridge was a large nest and above that circled several Harpies, crying harshly. Zagro knew that these vicious creatures might well have treasures in their nest, but up on the cliff face they had a distinct advantage. He suddenly whispered a clever idea to Sir Grimble, who smiled and pulled out the harpy heads he had grabbed as trophies a couple of nights past. Aldo and Zagro impaled the heads on their spears and began a gruesome pantomime as they moved towards the hill. Sure enough, two of the harpies flew down to investigate and were swiftly impaled themselves. The remaining couple of harpies harried them as they climbed the cliff but were eventually slain or driven off. Unfortunately Zagro stumbled and fell, hurting his ankle a little. But Aldo and Sir Grimble returned as expected with some treasure from the nest.

Beyond the harpies’ nest the forest thinned out and they found the road as dusk thickened. The body of a monk hung in a gibbet at a grim gallows by the roadside. Sir Grimble realised the man still lived, and cut him down. There were sinister twitterings in the evening gloom and suddenly Zagro made out the gleam of inhuman eyes surrounding them. “Give him to us,” hissed the voices. They were ghûls, eaters of the dead. Grimly, Aldo and Zagro lowered their spears and Sir Grimble on his warhorse raised his sword. The ghûls attacked ferociously. It was a hard fight. Zagro and Sir Grimble were wounded and tired. Zagro had very little magic. Aldo stabbed ghûl after ghûl — so many that Zagro admiringly called him Ghûl-killer. Eventually, the foul creatures lay scattered on the ground around the gallows in the darkness.

Aldo revived the monk but he was too far gone. He talked of a haunted island monastery in the river to the south where a holy cup could be found. Then he died. By now it was night and the three needed rest. They rode up the road toward the ruined villa with the subterranean temple, knowing it was a safe hideout. They rested and healed and in the morning returned to the gallows and headed south.

Sure enough, they soon came to the river bank and saw the island. A rowboat lay waiting, but Sir Grimble had to leave his faithful black warhorse behind. The island was peaceful and dotted with ruins. They came to a ruined chapel with no roof. There on the altar was a silver cup. Cautiously they approached it and Aldo took the cup. Nothing happened, so they hotfooted it back to the boat. This time they rowed to the south bank. They heard the howls of wolves and several of the creatures bounded into the clearing. But a well-aimed dragonbreath spell, and arrow fire drove them off. Aldo remembered that Hobgoblins were associated with wolves. Soon the tracks led them to a well, just like the one Ned the Hobgoblin had jumped down into and disappeared.

They descended the well with Sir Grimble’s rope and found an iron door in the side. They pushed it open and found themselves in a chamber filled with stolen rubbbish from the village. Behind a screen came a cry for help — the voice of the landlord’s daughter. Suspicious of Ned’s tricks, Zagro asked a few more questions of the lass before he released her, to make sure of her identity. Then the real Ned showed up and the battle was joined. Ned used some crafty spells but he was no match for the doughty heroes.

Ned was soon dead
They severed his head
And rode back to the village for tea.

From the Runes of Skagharin

Battle for the inner courtyard

The Thulanders arrive

Shouts rang out and torchlight flickered on the outer courtyard as the main force of Thulanders entered the stockade. Skagharin gave Svein Karlssen a quick summary of the outer courtyard battle. Karlssen gestured and a a detachment of Thulanders entered the gatehouse to mop up the surviving guards. Dintari went with them. Impatient Brutarl charged towards the inner courtyard portcullis (which was stuck half-closed). Svein Karlssen and the rest of the Thulanders accompanied him. After a pause, Skagharin followed along behind, stopping briefly to retrieve usable arrows from the corpses of the goblins in the centre of the courtyard. He heard a shriek from behind and saw a hobgoblin plummet from the outer guard tower. Dintari and the Thulanders would make short work of them.

Into battle

With a roar, Brutarl and the Thulanders wrenched the portcullis upwards and surged into the inner courtyard. Skagharin ran through and found himself in a chaotic melee. Torchlight flickered, steel met steel. There were the shouts of men and hobgoblins all around. Skagharin spotted several hobgoblins emerging from a tower behind the Thulanders. Skagharin was no warrior, but now was no time for cowardice. He rushed over along the wall and stabbed at one of them — but his dagger was easily turned by the hobgoblin’s chainmail. The hobgoblin turned with a snarl. Think smart, thought Skagharin. He aimed his dagger just so at a chink in the armour and stabbed quickly. The hobgoblin’s snarl turned to surprise as he collapsed, clasping at his spilling guts. Skagharin stabbed again and again, and another hobgoblin went down.

Ogre and Scimitar-man

With a mighty roar a huge Ogre armed with a mighty mace appeared behind the hobgoblin troops, flanked by an evil-looking warrior with a scimitar. “’Ware Ogres!” shouted Skagharin.

Moonshadow, who had been fighting nearby, immediately blasted the Ogre with some magic which made the thing roar with pain and fury. Brutarl faced the ogre with his sword Peacemaker. Scimitar-man charged towards Moonshadow with a sneer, making him miss a shot. Skagharin saw Dintari enter the portcullis, and they both ran across the courtyard to Moonshadow’s side. Scimitar-man fought well and fearlessly, but Moonshadow and Dintari the soldier fought well too. Even Skagharin managed to outflank and nick him a few times. Eventually the warrior panicked and ran, but Dintari ran him through with his short sword.

How to kill an Ogre

The Ogre too, had taken too many wounds from Peacemaker. He ran through the doors into the main building, pursued by Brutarl, Moonshadow, Dintari and Skagharin. The Ogre fled to the end of a huge room, while Moonshadow shot at it with arrows and Skagharin threw a heavy bannister at it. Closing in for the kill with the others, Skagharin stepped between the Ogre’s legs and slit his belly open with his dagger. He wasn’t prepared for the mass of guts which slopped out all over him, but at least he was nimble enough to dodge the great body as it fell with a crash to the floor.

The sun was high in the sky above the ruined temple. Zagro the Warlock, Sir Grimble Bobbleberry and Aldo of the Brilliantly Coloured Robe decided to make their way back into the woods to find the mischievous hobgoblin Old Ned. At the entrance to the forest they found two black-armoured knights on dark horses, who pronounced a sentence of death upon ¨all trespassers in Duke Darian’s wood¨. They charged, but Aldo and Zagro’s spears were ready. One knight went down, spurting blood from his helmet. Then Sir Grimble finished the second with his sword. The ´knights´ turned out not to be human at all, but some kind of hairy goblinoids. Their black armour stank. Sir Grimble proudly climbed on to one of the captured warhorses and Zagro led the other from the clearing.

It was near sunset when they came to a weeping willow on the edge of a rushing river. Asleep beneath the tree were a woodsman and a wolf. Aldo walked forward to have a look but was himself overcome by slumber and fell down snoring beneath the tree. Zagro did not need his magic to suspect sorcery here. He and Sir Grimble caught Aldo’s leg with a rope and pulled him gently from the weeping willow. With a crazed cackle a witch swooped from above on a black broomstick. She tried to cast a spell on Sir Grimble. She failed, and the big knight trampled her with his warhorse. Zagro stabbed her with his spear for good measure. Aldo had dropped his magic spear. Zagro and Sir Bobbleberry knew it was death to touch it, so they left it, and draped Aldo over the back of one of the horses. Sir Grimble tried to pull the woodsman from the tree but could not, so they returned to the inn. The innkeeper was disappointed that they had not yet found his daughter. Zagro and Sir Grimble ate a meal and retired.

Next day, all awoke refreshed. They returned to the forest and headed deep beneath the dark canopy, passing by the weeping willow (there was a charred body, Aldo’s spear and no sign of the wolf). They crossed a rickety bridge over a bubbling quagmire (Sir Grimble led his horse around). Aldo disturbed a nest of giant insects in a cave, but ran away. Deep in a dense thorn thicket they were surrounded and attacked by Thorn Demons. Zagro and Aldo were badly wounded by the creatures in a tough fight. Fortunately, healing potions salved their wounds. Beyond the thorn demons was a ruined tower they had spied when they had entered the wood.

A vine covered statue was outside. Zagro prodded it suspiciously with his spear. The statue moved! It was a gargoyle. A quick fight ensued and the three defeated it. In the broken courtyard of the tower was a fountain (a gargoyle mouth) and a well. Zagro was lowered into the well by his compatriots. There was a huge ominous statue and several skeletons on slabs. When his foot touched the water (which was knee-deep) it was grabbed by bony hands. The skeletons rose and moved toward him. Frantically his friends pulled him to safety. As he ascended, Zagro spotted a stairway leading up, and with a bit of searching the three found an old trap-door above. Figuring it was better to face one skeleton at a time, Sir Grimble descended the stairs. When the skeletons arose he fought them bravely, while Zagro and Aldo fired arrows. The skeletons were defeated and their bones sank beneath the still waters. There seemed to be no treasure. Discomfited by the looming statue, the three headed back up the stairs.

Zagro re-examined the fountain by prodding his spear-haft into its mouth. There was something in there, but the stony teeth closed around his spear. With great effort (and some damage to the spear) Zagro got it out: a brass scroll-tube. Aldo pronounced that it was a magical spell, and he slipped the scroll into his multicoloured robe.

That night, they were awoken by shrieks. Old Ned had abducted the landlord’s daughter and was rolling her off in a barrel! The three gave chase into the misty woods by moonlight. But they lost the cackling hobgoblin, and found the barrel abandoned in a clearing with a hollow tree.

They wandered into another clearing where they met a strange beggar and were attacked by Harpies. Zagro’s spear put an end to them though. In the next clearing they found a hut with an old crone inside. Aldo questioned her while Zagro and Sir Grimblebottom hung back. She seemed anxious about her husband returning, a man who didn’t like strangers. Sure enough, a crazy wild man came charging into the clearing, wielding a huge axe. Zagro shot an arrow at him and Sir Grimblebottom fought him. He was soon overwhelmed, and the three confiscated his axe and tied him to a tree. Hidden in the woodshed of his house were several dead bodies — the axeman’s victims. The three looted the hut and moved on.

The next clearing had a small lake with a boat moored on the shore. The three saw a ghostly maiden in the lake, holding a sword. Aldo climbed into the boat and was carried into the centre of the pool (Zagro and Sir Grimblebottom hung back, stupefied). The lady transformed into a skeletal ghost, who asked for vengeance against a certain mad lord from thereabouts. When Aldo agreed a ghostly sword appeared point-down over his head — as a surety of his promise. The ghost told Aldo about a magical spear and gauntlet buried in one of the nearby hummocks. Aldo retrieved the glowing spear and they continued. They found a vine-covered hut. Aldo tried to set it on fire and it jumped up on huge chicken legs and strode away into the forest!

Day dawned, and the forest thinned. They reached a road where a mysterious black carriage awaited them. However Zagro and Grimblebottom were more in favour of returning to the wood to seek the elusive Old Ned. Back among the trees, they stumbled across an ancient overgrown ruin, and descended steps into an underground temple to a War God. Zagro found traps and secret passages, fought an ancient mummy and uncovered six chests of treasure. Old Ned or no, they were wealthier than they had been the previous day.

(various sources)

The atttack

Lorien Moonshadow’s Battle Log

This will be quite a fight!

Approaching the gates of the hobgoblin slavers I sent two of the defenders into a gentle slumber and we were able to climb through a small unguarded window. Once inside the gates, brutish Brutarl made for a door only to flee in terror from the room from which he entered to hide himself in the lavatory. The fool Parius attempted to converse with the spectre that had shot fear into Brutarl’s heart only to find that the sinister being wanted only to feed on his naive soul. Magic is the only weapon against such an opponent and I unleashed my magic missile, dispelling this spectral being. We moved cautiously from room to room, dealing with a couple of occupants and avoiding the barracks. [GM: Brutarl barely survived a lucky hit from a goblin; it seemed Fate was on his side.] Stealth was still our weapon. Exiting the building we were confronted with what must’ve been Wargs. I’d heard many tales as a child of these goblin bred beasts. Not simple to defeat, Parius said that he could speak to and sooth the beasts. This time he achieved what he promised and seemed to turn the beasts placid. This allowed Parius to cling to the belly of one of the beasts and he was able to scout the courtyard. It was free and it appeared there was no obstruction to the inner gate. We were free to cross the courtyard and enter the other side of the first gatehouse to find the lock that released the mechanism to raise the gate. With little way of reaching the balcony without tackling the guards in the barracks, we decided it was time to unveil the attack. Placing the horn to my lips, I blew hard and strong. Raising a sound that could awaken the dead. Brutarl and I raised the portcullis. Those vikings best make good speed.

Hobgoblins rushed into the court. Parius and Brutarl with their new ‘pets’ went to defend the gatehouse door while I took advantage of my position over the court to target the enemy as they streamed in. Brutarl let out a mighty roar “BRUTARL!” that stunned the first of the assailants and gave him time to even the odds a little. I remembered a scroll that Svein Karlssen had given me that had a spell that allowed me to cast a ‘stinking cloud’ over my enemies and thought it prudent to use it now faced with so many. It was more effective than I suspected and left the enemy in disarray. Coughing and choking I took aim at their leader and lodged in arrow in his throat. I dropped another and then another. Brutarl and the Wargs were making good work of their Hobgoblin opponents till Brutarl dropped his weapon and took a savage blow. The Wargs without Brutarl fell quickly and Parius was holding the remaining Hobgoblins at bay and I tried to even the odds further taking down a couple more.

Some of the larger group had fled to a far corner and all I can do now is sit here and hope that those Vikings make it before any more Hobgoblins make another assault. What happened to Svein and the dwarf? Time could not move more slowly.

From the Runes of Skagharin

When they heard the mournful sound of Svein Karlssen’s horn, Dintari and Skagharin wasted no time. They immediately lit the bundles of oil-soaked sticks which they had piled at the edge of the forest to the rear of the stockade. Soon guards were shouting and arrows were being fired into the blaze. Dintari and Skagharin were already long gone, creeping through the woods to the east of the stockade though none too quietly. Dintari occasionally cursed and stumbled in the dark. At one point Skagharin took a potshot at a lone sentry on the wall. The arrow went wide but the alarm went up and more came running. Just more distractions. Skagharin grinned to himself as he made his way down to the main gate. To his dismay, the guards were still up on the wall at the front. Arrows whizzed down from the parapet and Dintari took a hit before they made the cover of the gate. Fortunately it was only a mild graze.

Pausing for breath in the shadow of the wall, Skagharin noted that the drawbridge was down and the portcullis was open. The sound of fighting was coming from the courtyard. Skagharin could see Svein Karlssen and his warriors approaching — the fighting might be his friends. Dintari and Skagharin hurried beneath the portcullis. They were spotted. A platoon of hobgoblins charged toward them from the inner courtyard Suddenly there was a great war cry to the right: “BRUTARL!”

The platoon of hobgoblins were stunned into disarray by Brutarl’s mighty roar. Arrows whizzed from the gatehouse windows, killing several. Skagharin and Dintari took advantage of the confusion to run to where Brutarl had kicked the gatehouse door open. There two huge dire wolves, badly wounded, were snapping at the goblins who surrounded them. Brutarl, Dintari and Skagharin attacked the goblins while a sickly yellowish mist coalesced from the fog around the hobgoblin troop in the courtyard. Skagharin heard coughing and retching from the stinking cloud as he slashed with his dagger at a goblin.

After a brief but intense fight, the goblins were dead. Nothing was emerging from the roiling yellow cloud but Skagharin, Dintari and Brutarl nevertheless retreated into the tower to defend and await the Thulanders. There they found Parius, unharmed but silently weeping, and also Moonshadow, grimly firing volley after effective volley through the murder holes. They had taken the inner courtyard, but the night was not over.

From the Runes of Skagharin

Reaver’s Isle

The dim pre-dawn light revealed the Reaver’s Isle rising low and dark against the grey horizon. With the sounds of splashing oars, creaking ropes and gruffly shouted orders Svein Karlssen’s ship Sea Hammer came alongside Lassa’s Grace and Karlssen came aboard. After some consultation it was agreed that the Sea Hammer would stand by and wait for a signal from Karlssen’s horn, which he handed to Skagharin. Wasting no more time, the dwarven captain steered a course around the island. The east coast was predominantly shingly beaches and low hills. No shelter there from either storm or prying eye. However, near the high peninsula to the north he spotted a hidden cove which would be perfect to conceal Lassa’s Grace.

Beached

Though long at sea, Skagharin was but recently a captain and navigator. The entrance to the cove was too shallow and submerged rocks scraped the keel with a splintering sound. Lassa’s Grace had been damaged and would need repairs. Skagharin figured she might need to leave in a hurry, so it would be best to repair her immediately. Moonshadow, Dintari and Melisana helped to beach the ship so that it could be inspected and repaired.

Bored with this mundane work, itching for action, Brutarl climbed the dunes and wandered inland. After a while he returned with a small, ragged fellow, an escaped halfling slave called Jorry Muttonchops. After a swig from Skagharin’s rum bottle and a bite to eat from the ship’s provisions, Muttonchops told his tale. He had escaped from the reavers’ outpost by climbing out of an unused window and scavenged his way north. He had feared pursuit by the reavers, but they did not bother to leave their outpost. Moonshadow, Dintari and Skagharin decided to take the halfling south with them to investigate the stockade.

The Old Gods’ monolith

Leaving Melisana with the repaired boat (Skagharin knew she could not sail it alone), Moonshadow, Skagharin, Dintari, Brutarl, Parius and Jorry Muttonchops set off to the south. The terrain was low scrubby hills. After a while the group came to a sunken swamp with an old stone monolith on a rise in the centre. Skagharin noted that the water level of the swamp had dropped rapidly recently. He wanted nothing to do with the monolith, but the others approached its dry island and he warily followed. Parius stepped up to the monolith — and suddenly writhing roots shot out of the ground and wrapped around everyone’s legs. Only Skagharin evaded the clutching vegetation. At the same time, the earth opened beneath Parius’ feet and he was sucked quickly below. Slashing himself free of the roots and creepers, Brutarl leapt to save Parius, but was too late. He and Skagharin dug frantically but found no sign of the half-elf. Then, just as suddenly, Parius was ejected from the ground, and the animated roots shrank back into the earth. Parius was muttering something about the Earth being in pain, but he seemed physically unharmed. The group quickly left the vicinity of this stone of elder gods.

The stockade

Some distance beyond the monolith swamp, the reaver’s outpost came into view. It was a wooden stockade in a valley surrounded by light forest. A dock with a ship at anchor was nearby. Guards patrolled its walls, changing every half hour. Skagharin observed the stockade for some time before conferring with Dintari, Moonshadow and Brutarl on the best course of action.

Night of fire and noise

Skagharin returned northwards with Dintari. Together with Melisana, they sailed Lassa’s Grace to where the Sea Hammer lay at anchor. They persuaded Karlssen to land his warriors at the same hidden cove to the north of the island. This required some manouvreing of both boats as Sea Hammer had too much draft to fit in the narrow channel. The warriors marched southward to remain hidden from view north of the stockade. Skagharin and Dintari crept to the forest behind the stockade under cover of darkness with bundles of oil-soaked wood. They waited for the agreed signal — a blast on Svein Karlssen’s horn (now held by Moonshadow), which would trigger a fiery attack from all sides. The plan was for Moonshadow, Brutarl and Parius to sneak into the stockade by Muttonchops’ window, kill the guards and wolves, and throw open the gate with a blast on the signal horn.

(With additions and inserts from The Poesy of Parius)

Oh look, isn’t he pretty! I think he’s a chestnut-belted gnat eater but I can’t be sure. He’s perched right on top of one of Skagharin’s rune things.

I went along with Lorien and Brutarl to the fort because I didn’t want them to hurt the wolves. I can talk to them, you see. We climbed up the rope, dangling just as the poor little fellow Jorry left it. Through the window and we were in a dingy unused room in the fort. It was kind of cold and there was broken wood scattered around. I pulled out my throbbing treasure stick from the sunken island and waved it around. But no throbbing this time so I put it away.

We were walking into an old room with a latrine cupboard and it was getting really cold now. Lorien was looking for a stairs when suddenly a ghostly figure appeared, moaning and keening. Brutarl, up front, he went white as a sheet and bolted into the latrine, sobbing some kind of mantra.
“We come in peace, spirit,” I said. “Do not fear us.”
Moonshadow looked at me as if I was a fool, and even the ghost threw a chair leg at me. It shattered against the wall. Then I felt cold all over as the spirit tried to drain my soul. Lorien chanted the words of a spell and shot a magic missile into the ghost, which promptly vanished.
“That was a malevolent spirit, Moonshadow.” I told him. I opened the latrine door and held out my hand to Brutarl, who was still whimpering in there.

From the Runes of Skagharin

Dark clouds still loomed ominously to the north, but for now the boat was safe. Skagharin pored over the captured charts and cursed the unnatural storm (under his breath; Lady Lassa was a little too close for comfort) for obscuring the sun. Elsewhere on the vessel, Brutarl slept, Parius meditated, Moonshadow studied some tome and Dintari feigned sleep while eyeing the lithe Melisana trim the sails. The wind blew cool, and the travellers had neither food, water nor much clothing. They needed to find a port quickly.

That night, familiar constellations blazed in the clear sky and the moon was bright on the water. Skagharin knew where they were: the islands north of Thuland. Trusting the moonlight and his skills he set a course southwards. After some time, several small dark islands became visible. Melisana suggested the ship drop sails lest it crash into submerged rocks or reefs. Skagharin gave the order, more because he wanted to give the girl a rest than anything.

Brutarl shouted and Skagharin awoke. The ship drifted near a bleak rocky outcrop. Brutarl pointed beyond the islet to where a Thulandian longship was even now altering course toward them. With the sails furled, flight was pointless. Besides, the Thulandians might be friendly.
“Cover the treasure!” hissed Skagharin.
Warily, the six awaited the longship and its armed crew.

The captain of the longship was one Svein Karlssen, a Thulander. He was not hostile and even agreed to trade for food and water. His ship sought Reavers in Thulandish waters. Skagharin had noted that there was an outpost within Thulandian waters marked on his captured reaver charts, and he had no qualms about revealing this to Karlssen. He was intrigued and suggested the group sail to nearby Vorgenheim to inform his master Eorl Vorgen. The two ships parted.

It seemed as good a destination as any. Skagharin set sail for Vorgenheim and Lassa’s Grace (for such he had named their longship) arrived at the village by sunset. As they pulled the boat up the gravelly beach, they were met by a group of villagers on the foreshore. Skagharin hung back. A ship’s captain is master of all the souls on board, but on land in a human town he preferred others to do the talking. Dintari seemed similarly tongue tied, so it fell to Moonshadow to make introductions. When Svein Karlssen’s name was mentioned, the villagers took the motley group to Eorl Vorgen’s longhouse. There the old eorl sat, surrounded by his hetmen.

Both Brutarl and Lorien Moonshadow began to speak but Skagharin tired of their long-windedness and forgot his previous reticence. With Eorl Vorgen’s permission he barked out a summary: “We met Svein Karlssen in the isles to the north. We told him of a Reaver outpost here in Thuland. He suggested we tell you.”
“Interesting,” said Lord Vorgen “BRINGALE!”
Skagharin cheered at that and noted that Brutarl and Parius did too. The feast began. Parius told an approving Eorl Vorgen an embellished version of their tale of escape from the Sea King’s Isle. Brutarl spent the evening with a local lass named Olga on his lap. Skagharin just enjoyed the fire, food and freely-flowing ale. Eorl Vorgen considered the situation. He asked that the crew of Lassa’s Grace scout out the Reaver base. This they agreed to do in return for the outfitting of their ship and ‘fair recompense’.

The next day was spent gathering supplies and loading them on board the ship. Skagharin noted with approval the barrels of water and food, which might otherwise have been quite expensive. That evening, Svein Karlssen returned to Vorgenheim with his ship — having found no Reavers.

Lassa’s Grace slipped out of Vorgenheim at dawn and made good speed towards the isle where the Reavers’ outpost lay hidden.

From the Runes of Skagharin

The ransacked manor

The goblins lay dead around the wreckage of the queen’s chamber. Parius hefted the supposed treasure-finding stick.
“It’s throbbing,” he said. “Pointing that way.”Skagharin rolled his eyes but said nothing as the group followed Parius into the corridor. Treasure-finding sticks might be hocus-pocus, but treasure was treasure, especially if it was very close by. The stick led the group through a doorway in the old manor.
“The King’s chambers,” muttered crazy old Keestake. “We must show respect.”
The chambers were as strewn with debris as the rest of the manor. Parius, pointing the stick in front of him, came to a stop at an old broken desk. Skagharin looked it over and saw nothing but rubbish. “We’ve wasted enough time with this charlatan trick. Let’s get on.” Brutarl reached over the dwarf and opened the hidden compartment he had spotted. He pulled out a very well-made dagger (for human workmanship), miraculously sharp after all these years; and a potion which Parius identified as something which would benefit a warrior. He handed it to Moonshadow. [GM: Parius and Moonshadow both agreeed that the potion woould increase the prowess and stamina of a warrior while the effects lasted.]

The group followed their rambling guide Keestake to the other side of the manor down a long corridor, towards the entrance to the the catacombs supposedly filled with treasure and a boat. Catacombs held no fear for Skagharin; mere scratches in the earth. Deeper tunnels though…but best not to think of such things. Suddenly two Lizard Men appeared around a a bend in the corridor, armed with javelins. There was a tense silence as the wreck survivors faced the green scaly creatures, neither side attacking immediately.
“What do you here?” asked a Lizard Man in bad Common.

Dintari stepped forward. “We are minding our business. We mean you no harm, but do not obstruct us.”
“You come with us to our camp,” said the Lizard Man.
“No,” hissed Moonshadow. “We will not.”
“We go now. We come back with more numbers. We defeat you then.”
The Lizard Men beat a retreat. Moonshadow sneered and with a wave of his hand a magical arrow sped from his fingers and followed the departing Lizard Men around the corner.
Skagharin heard a yelp, then rapidly retreating footsteps. “We’d better keep moving,” he said. “Keestake – where’s the entrance to these catacombs?”
“Ah yes, the Scribe’s chamber..” murmured Keestake vaguely, “this way.”

The Scribe’s chamber was a mess of trash, just like all the other rooms in the manor. Large empty bookcases covered the far wall. “Push the button behind the bookcase!” burbled Keestake. Skagharin clambered up the bookcase, found the button, and pushed it. There was a slight movement of the bookcase, but then the concealed door got stuck. Skagharin, Brutarl, Dintari and Moonshadow gradually levered it open to reveal a chimney with rungs descending into darkness. There were sounds approaching from outside the room, so Skagharin descended first, scanning below for danger with his Darksight.

[GM: While Skagharin descended the others could hear the sounds of goblins approaching in the corridor outside, investigating the noises they could hear. Brutarl, Dintari and Moonshadow pushed the heavy bookshelf in front of the door, holding it place while the others descended. The goblins started pushing against the door and hacking it with their swords, yelling insults and threats. Dintari pushed against the bookshelf but the door was gradually being forced open. Brutarl fired his crossbow through the crack in the door and a loud yelp was heard as the bolt found a goblin. By now the others had climbed into the chimney, so Brutarl quickly followed.]

Into the catacombs

At the bottom was a large chamber divided into storage areas. Stacks of crates loomed dimly in the gloom. There were noises above as the others descended. Skagharin found a torch in a bracket and lit it. Keestake and Melisana descended into the room. “Is there a way to shut the door?” Skagharin asked the old man.
“Yes yes, the lever there on the wall.”
Skagharin waited until all the party had entered the room (Brutarl last). He pulled the lever. There was a crashing sound from above, and cries. A whoosh of dust came down the chimney. The chimney had been choked with rubble. When Skagharin turned back to the room Keestake had a strange look in his eyes.

“You fools! You thought I would just lead you down to the treasure of my noble King, in whose service I spent all my days? Why I myself prepared his body specially to live forever.” Somehow Keestake had acquired a dagger and now he lunged at Skagharin, who dodged nimbly. His time on board ships surrounded by skullduggerous sailors had not been for nothing. Moonshadow turned and whispered some incantation while Brutarl swung his arm and drove the King’s dagger straight up through Keestake’s jaw and into his brain with such force that the man was lifted from his feet. Blood dripped down Brutarl’s arm as the dagger clattered from Keestake’s lifeless fingers. There was shocked silence. Then Brutarl cast the body aside.

The silence in the catacombs was profound. Melisana turned her face away and Dintari looked bleak. Skagharin dusted himself off. The old man was mad. He might have trapped them in these dark rooms for nothing, or the ship might just be here somewhere. Time to start looking. Skagharin investigated a pile of crates which seemed to contain bricks. Crates of bricks? Made no sense until he noticed the thin trip wire across the passage. Traps, then. He backed off slowly.

Brutarl was not one for slow or careful. With long strides he crossed the chamber and swept back a tapestry concealing an exit passage. Skagharin spotted another trip wire but before he could warn the barbarian, he had snapped it; with a crumbling sound chunks of masonry and plaster collapsed from the roof, stunning the the barbarian.

When the dust cleared, the party moved forward into another large chamber similar to the first and again divided into three long partitions. The first was filled with crates. From the second could be heard the sound of squeaking rats. The third contained a well with the sound of rushing water below. An underground stream…going to the sea perhaps? Skagharin’s hopes of finding a boat in this benighted catacomb were rekindled.

Bored with such speculation, Brutarl strode off once again — and tumbled forward as the floor fell away beneath him. A pit trap! Fortunately the pantherine warrior managed to land on a ledge, from which he climbed to safety, somewhat winded. Again rushing water could be heard below. [GM: Skagharin’s memory is somewhat cloudy here. Brutarl noticed that the floor on a section of the coridorlooked unsafe. Being the man of action he is, he took a long run up and tried to leap over the section of cracked and loose flagstones. Unfortunately he misjudged and when he landed the floor gave way; stones, masonry and Brutarl fell into a dark pit. Here Brutarl’s luck held, and he landed painfully on a ledge. After catching his breath he was able to climb out of the hole. The others noticed that the floor adjacent to the wall was still intact and so could pass around the pit. Parius came to Brutarl’s aid and healed his bruises and scrapes.] Past the pit trap were a number of small cells, perhaps for monks or prisoners though all were empty — except for the last which was rigged with a rusty old crossbow aimed at the doorway. Skagharin ducked to avoid the crossbow bolt which had been aimed for a human height.

Empty rooms, then, but Skagharin’s sharp mind was ticking. Why lay traps except to protect or deter? How did all of those crates get down here? Surely not down the ladder chimney. The first pile of crates was a trap, but the second.. Skagharin led the way back to the nearest nook with the crates, and he, Dintari and Brutarl started shifting them. Sure enough a door was concealed behind, from which a fresh breeze emanated. Through the door was a long rough-hewn passage through the rock.

Sea King’s end

The passage led to a huge cavern. Skagharin could smell the sea. On one wall were several alcoves, and there was a large bricked-up opening on another wall. From something Keestake had said, Skagharin assumed the niches contained the tombs of the sea king and queen. There were plaques near the alcoves. Surely it would do no harm to merely read them. Skagharin moved to investigate. From the tombs two livid corpses rose, the tattered — and armed — bodies of the Sea King and Queen, to punish transgressors.

Skagharin and Dintari attempted to fight the zombie queen. Finding their daggers rather ineffective, they tried hurling flaming torches. Meanwhile Brutarl and Moonshadow took on the Sea King, who was armoured and wielded a mighty mace. This weapon smashed Brutarl between the legs so hard that he was lifted off his feet and lay sprawled and groaning. Moonshadow’s blows glanced off the King’s armour. Skagharin and Dintari managed to hack the queen so much that she could no longer move. Parius laid his hands upon Brutarl and called upon the gods to heal him. The gods must have listened. Brutarl leaped to his feet and stabbed the Sea King with his own dagger through a chink in his armour; punched right though the rotting flesh beneath and out the other side. The Sea King tottered to his knees and collapsed in the sand.

Leaving Brutarl to strip the long-dead corpse of its armour, Skagharin investigated the other tomb and found the promised boat: a funereal longship complete with the dead body of a prince, piled high with weapons, armour and treasure. Then he, Dintari and Moonshadow removed the bricks from the sea cave wall. Beyond: an underground beach, grey sea and the glare of sunlight from the exit.

Putting to sea in the longship, Skagharin found the thing a bit of a beast to handle. To his surprise, Melisana was able to hoist the mainsail with ease. Skagharin frowned. Full of surprises, that lass. Must keep an eye on her, he thought. The winds whipped the boat as it moved away from the island and Skagharin assumed Lassa had been fickle — as she often was. But as they moved further the winds around them calmed somewhat. Not around the island though. Many huge typhoons engulfed it; the sky darkened and the wind shrieked. Skagharin glimpsed rubble, trees and boulders flying up into the sky and maybe even — he was unsure — small figures also. What was unmistakable, and made him clutch the stern rail till his knuckles turned white, was the vast, vengefully intent face of the Goddess Lassa in the dark clouds spread across the horizon.

From the Runes of Skagharin

The fire burned low in the great temple room, casting strange flickering shadows into the darkness around. Skagharin‘s eyes were dark pools as he sat quietly watching over the room and his slumbering companions. As he watched he carved and whittled an old table leg and listened with half an ear to Dintari, who kept watch with him, chattering to crazy old Keestake. It was only when the old fool muttered about a hidden treasure, an old prince and a boat beneath the manor that Skagharin paid full attention. It seemed the old man had valuable information after all, perhaps explaining why he’d been captured by the Lizard Men. Definitely a matter to investigate on the morrow. Time passed, the fire burned to embers. The old man finally fell silent. Skagharin was tired from the events of the day. He and Dintari woke Parius and Brutarl for their watch and, hungry but warm, drifted quickly to sleep.

In his dreams, Skagharin heard a silvery, unearthly voice. He awoke, alert with his hand on his daggers. Though the fire had been allowed to die down a strange glow filled the room. Skagharin hissed between his teeth when he saw the lean outline of Brutarl silhouetted against the source of the light — the now whole statue of the Goddess Lassa (Parius stood slightly further away). Worse, the goddess’ statue was speaking to the warrior with the silvery voice from the dwarf’s dreams. What thrice-cursed supernatural forces had the headstrong barbarian awakened? Skagharin crept closer, to hear the silvery voice of Lassa uttering these chilling words:“…these actions have displeased me and so I shall destroy this island at sundown.”

In spite of this dire foretelling, the goddess seemed to hold no malice towards Brutarl and his companions. Skagharin even prompted the Lady of the Winds to state that fair breezes would be theirs who escaped from the island before its doom. As to how to do that, Lassa offered no information. The glow faded and the goddess was gone forever from her former temple. Her statue was once more seated upon its throne, though now repaired and intact. The fading presence of the deity made Skagharin feel rested and refreshed, and he saw that his new companions had been similarly affected. With the island destined for destruction at the hands of a vengeful god in just a few hours, the time for sleep was over in any case.

The group decided to search the temple for anything of use before departing. Impatient Brutarl could not see the point of this and he paced outside in the rain like a caged animal, muttering futile entreaties to Lassa. The temple was mostly empty. Moonshadow and Keestake, Parius, Melisana, Skagharin and Dintari peered into empty room after empty room, with the old man giving a rambling commentary. Servants quarters, empty store-rooms, the great dark kitchen with its cavernous fireplace. After leaving the last, trailing the party with Dintari, Skagharin heard a noise behind. He turned and saw a ghastly corpse-like creature with sharp talons rushing at speed towards Dintari. The thing gave a dreadful shriek and Moonshadow seemed frozen with fear. Skagharin and Dintari kept their heads as the thing ripped into Dintari’s neck with its vile claws and fangs. Dintari pulled out his sword and slashed at its arms as it grappled him, though now his chest was red with his own blood. Skagharin stabbed at it somewhat ineffectively with his dagger, but Dintari, although bloodied, was soon victorious over the corpse thing. Looking at its slashed, corrupted body on the ground, Skagharin quizzed Keestake about it, but the old man claimed he knew nothing. Parius laid his hands on Dintari’s wound and it was healed. Brutarl came running at the sound of the shriek, then strode off to explore the temple’s upper level. There was little else to be found except for some cloth from which they fashioned some crude clothes. Dawn was coming; it was time to leave.

In the grey light of dawn it was clear that the supposedly treasure-filled manor was not far away at all from the temple building. It was also clear that a small force of Lizard men crept up on the manor from the left, while a band of Goblins approached from the right. The two groups had not yet spied each other, but Skagarin guessed that when they did they would not be happy. Not far from the temple, a shallow ditch led to the side of the manor, perhaps enough to conceal the group from the goblins and lizard men as they approached. The old servant of Lassa piped up, saying that there was a loose bar on the window at the end of the ditch. The group was decided and they made their way forward as quietly as they could. But the dwarf cursed as he tripped on a rotten root, which snapped loudly. One of the nearby goblins leaned over the ditch — and was slashed once, twice by the deadly blade of Lorien Moonshadow. The goblin toppled into the ditch, and Skagharin took some sort of food from its pouch. Fortunately, neither the nearby goblins nor lizard men were alerted by this commotion.

Climbing up to the window at the end of the ditch, Brutarl easily removed the bar and clambered inside, followed by the rest of the party. Keestake resumed his rambling commentary, telling of the nearby Queen’s chamber and how she possessed a magical stick which could find treasure. With cautious haste, and stopping for a look at Keestake’s room (“Oh, they’ve wrecked everything!”, he moaned when he saw it), the group made their way to the Queen’s chamber. Skagharin listened at the door and heard conversation. Quietly they entered the antechamber and, spying goblins within the main room, prepared to fight them.

Brutarl, Dintari and Moonshadow surged into the room and the battle commenced with Brutarl’s mighty war-cry, and more of Moonshadow’s sleep-magics. At first Skagharin hung back, to guard the rear and pick off any gobins who escaped from the bed-chamber. But soon he realised that this was a dangerous fight and that his help was needed. He left Melisana, dagger in hand, to guard the old man, and leapt into the fray. Blades flashed and clanked, there were cries and yells. The goblins fought hard but they were eventually overcome and slain. Once again Brutarl and Moonshadow wreaked much carnage, and Dintari and Skagharin fought bravely. After the battle, Skagharin and Moonshadow stabbed the sleepers without remorse, glancing at one another; one thing at least which the elder races had in common. The goblins had found the supposed treasure-finding stick and Skagharin handed it distastefully to Parius. More sorcery, he thought, and most likely useless. Time was a-wasting, and he had no wish to die here. They needed to find that boat, and quickly.

From the Runes of Skagharin

Taken by reavers! His ship sunk days ago, Skagharin hung chained in
the bowels of the slavers’ ship, along with hundreds of others. The
stink below decks was terrible. Each day the ugly slave master would
shove a bucket of gruel to the slaves and as often as not crack his
whip across some poor fool’s back. The key to their chains hung on a
beam tantalisingly out of reach as the ship rocked and swayed across
unfamiliar seas.

Skagharin observed his nearby companions in bondage, though he spoke
little to them. Three humans: a meek woman; a capable-looking fellow,
probably a southerner; a lean and menacing barbarian with mad eyes
named Brutarl. Then there was Parius the half-elf man with sad
dreamers’ eyes and, gagged always, a tall elf of unearthly beauty and
uncertain gender, with a moon tattoo. Moon Man, Skagharin called him.

After many days, a wild storm rocked the boat. Shouts and screams
could be heard above decks as the ship pitched and rolled and the wind
howled. Most of the other prisoners were herded up on deck to help
row. They never returned. After some time the decks above were silent.
Then with a lurching crash, the ship ran aground, jerking Skagharin
and his companions violently about in their chains. The ship split
apart; cold rain, wind and water rushed in through a gaping hole.

Dintari the Southerner’s chains had come loose and he managed to
wrench himself free. He reached for the key which still dangled from
the beam above and unlocked the chains of his fellow prisoners. The
girl, Melisana, thanked him. Shivering and blinking in the cold air,
they considered their situation. The hatch was blocked. Skagharin and
Brutarl peered out into the rainy gloom. There they saw a desolate
beach with high cliffs on one side, empty except for..the slave master
wandering drunkenly up and down, armed with a sword and a rum bottle.

Skagharin realised that they would need to get whatever they could
from the ship. He and Brutarl attempted to climb up to the top deck.
Brutarl shimmied up the wet timbers, but Skagharin slipped and fell
into the cold water, twisting his ankle. He was joined on the shore by
Parius and the Moon Man, who had now removed his gag and stood silent
and strange beside them. The slave-master shouted and ran towards them
with his sword raised. Parius uttered some words and suddenly the
slave-master became compliant and almost polite. Parius invited him to
drop his bottle and his sword (which Skagharin and Moonshadow—for
such was really his name—picked up).

While the slave-master’s attitude to Parius had altered he still
seemed leery of the other ‘cargo’ and he rudely demanded they return
to the ship. At this point Brutarl and Dintari (who had quietly found
an easier way up) returned from the upper deck. Dintari held a small
chest under one arm, and Brutal sported a crossbow. Taking umbrage,
Brutarl lunged at his former tormentor with an almighty roar which seemed to come from deep within. Stunned, the slave-master fumbled for
dagger at his belt but he did not see Moonshadow behind him. The tall
elf chopped the sword into the side of the slaver’s neck with a fluid
motion, and then again. He staggered sideways and his blood stained
the grey sand. Skagharin grabbed the dagger almost before the corpse
hit the ground. Brutarl and Moonshadow begain to strip the body
immediately.

Disgusted by this violence and coarse behaviour, Dintari and Melisana
wandered away, looking for shelter from the rain and cold wind. Parius
followed, and Skagharin, cursing and hobbling. Taking pity on his new
companion, Parius laid his hands on the dwarf and healed his ankle.
Skagharin was amazed, though mistrustful of the magic.

In the dunes with Melisana, Dintari halted at the sound of battle
beyond a ridge. When the others had caught up, it was agreed that
Brutarl and Moonshadow would scout ahead. Brutarl returned shortly and
reported that a battle was indeed in progress. Several Goblins were
fighting Lizard Men. Barbed spears, darts and arrows flew through the
air. Brutarl wanted to see how the fight would end; Dintari, Melisana
and Skagharin wanted to find shelter. Brutarl returned to Moonshadow,
ostensibly to report the group decision.

After several minutes, Brutarl did not return. Skagharin clambered up a
small hillock and peeked over it at the melee. The last Lizard Men had
been been vanquished and the Goblins were heading up the rift towards
an old man lying bound on the ground. Suddenly, the old man’s bonds
fell away. As the lead Goblins neared him two of them collapsed to the
ground. Then the Elf Lorien Moonshadow was there with his slaver’s
cloak and brandishing the slaver’s long sword. More magic, sighed
Skagharin to himself. The goblins charged, and the dwarf caught sight
of Brutarl charging out to their flank. Skagharin backed down and
quickly explained the situation to Dintari, who suggested they throw
rocks at the goblins to unsettle and confuse them. Dintari turned out
to be a crack shot too, hitting one goblin square in the head and
bringing him down (Skagharin’s rocks all hit their targets, but with
less force). Meanwhile Brutarl and Moonshadow were laying into the
goblins down below. Moonshadow’s long sword slashed with murderous
efficiency and soon the goblins were all dead.

The old man (whose name was Keestake) seemed to be some sort of bumbling servant, though he
didn’t really explain how he had come to be in such a disagreeable
position. He agreed to take the adventurers to a nearby temple to
rest. Soon enough they arrived at an abandoned and ransacked, but intact structure,
an old Temple of Lassa. It was good to get out of the rain, and
Skagharin soon started a fire from broken furniture in the main
temple room not far from the broken statue of the goddess. The old man told of the war between goblins and lizard
men on the island over treasure, and how Lassa had sent a terrible
storm in anger over the recent ransacking of her temple. The old man
also spoke of an abandoned manor which the goblins thought contained
treasure. The chest which Dintari had carried from the beach carried
maps and charts, and Skagharin looked forward to poring over them on
the morrow. There was mystery about this island. Lizard men, far from
their natural clime at war with goblins? Skagharin wondered if this
old man was what he seemed, and whether he could trust his new
companions, and whether this temple was as empty as it seemed. But
mystery was better than slavery, he decided.